


The Missing Flock

by Urby



Category: Bravely Default: Flying Fairy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Urby/pseuds/Urby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The others teased him about it, of course. That no matter how long or far they traveled, Tiz would always be a shepherd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Missing Flock

It started as a practical joke, an innocuous gift that Edea had bought in Florem. A bright blue plush sheep, a toy obviously meant for a small child.

"I found a friend of yours!" Edea said, pushing it into Tiz’s hands. "He must have wandered off, so keep a close eye on him this time, okay?"

Everyone had a good laugh about it, agreed the doll was very cute, and moved on to more serious matters.

But it didn’t end there.

"Tiz! I found your lamb. She put me through quite the chase, but I caught her for you - she couldn’t resist my charms. Here," Ringabel said, tossing the other boy an orange plush sheep.

"But this is a different one!" Tiz said, catching it anyway. "The other one was blue."

Ringabel frowned in mock concern. “Well, my mistake then. Why don’t you keep her?”

From then on, anytime the warriors of light found a toy sheep, they had to get it for Tiz. Edea had a talent for scrounging them up, but even Agnès found a few, as shy as she was in giving them away.

Tiz kept every single one, and could name the place each of them came from. _Florem of the first world. Grandship, second world. This one…Anchiem, third world, I believe. Yes, it has to be. Eternia, second world…_

The others teased him about it, of course. That no matter how long or far they traveled, Tiz would always be a shepherd. He didn’t mind any of it.

There were long nights, after he had carefully managed the reconstruction of Norende for the day and pondered the worth of his efforts, that sleep was too hard to find. The Norende he was building was not the one he had lost, and his mind ground against the thought. So he would reach into his bags and take out every little plush animal, arrange them on his bed, and imagine himself driving a flock of sheep through the paths and shops.

It didn’t always help him sleep. But it helped quiet his mind.


End file.
